


Recessional

by EightDrinkAmy



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Recessional-Vienna Teng, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EightDrinkAmy/pseuds/EightDrinkAmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delphine goes back to France after all of the clone drama ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recessional

_“It’s so beautiful here,” she says.  
_ _“This moment now, and this moment, now.”_

“You know, I’ve always wanted to go to France.”

She’s sitting behind you, her arms wrapped around your waist. You don’t respond, and she presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Come on, you can liven up a little!” she says. “You get to go home, and I get to go with you. What’s not to love about the next…forever?” She’s wearing the widest grin you’ve seen her don in a while, and your heart skips painfully.

_And I never thought I would find her here,  
_ _Flannel and satin; my four walls transformed_

You have no idea how she got there, but it at least gets a small smile out of you. “Of course, ma chérie,” you finally reply. “Come; we mustn’t miss the flight.”

You’d been sitting quietly for quite some time, but now you stand and take Cosima’s hand. She’s right, of course. You should be excited to go home. You should be relieved that everything involving DYAD is over. You should be, but you’re not.

_But she’s looking at me, straight to center  
_ _No room at all for any other thought_

You can feel Cosima’s eyes resting on you during the drive to the airport. You glance over at her and you can’t help but to slip another small smile. “Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask.

You laugh when she replies, “You’re just so beautiful, you know that?”

“Et toi aussi, Cosima,” you say.

“Nah. But that’s okay; you’re pretty enough for the both of us,” she bites back with a grin.

You smile and shake your head, but can’t bring yourself to argue with her over something so petty. You are simply grateful for her presence.

_And I know I don’t want this  
_ _Oh, I swear I don’t want this  
_ _There’s a reason not to want this  
_ _But I forgot_

She shouldn’t be here, you think. She shouldn’t be here, and you shouldn’t be encouraging her. You love her more than anything, but you can’t shake the feeling that this is wrong. That she shouldn’t be going with you back to France.

You shove the notion to the side, though, because it doesn’t matter, does it? She’s here now.

_In the terminal, she sleeps on my shoulder  
_ _Hair falling forward, mouth all askew_

You’d gotten to the airport with more time to spare than you’d bargained for. You feel antsy and you want to stand, to pace, but Cosima convinces you to sit. She plops herself down right next to you and leans on your shoulder. She’s snoring within minutes, and against your better judgment, you let her sleep.

_Fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead:  
_ _“Passengers missing, we’re looking for you.”_

You had gotten so lost in your thoughts that you’d all but fallen asleep as well. You’d had your eyes trained on Cosima, mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. It is extremely relaxing to watch after the period of time in which you’d had to hold your own breath waiting for hers to come. At least you don’t have to worry about that anymore, you think.

The announcement jerks you out of your daze, though, and you rush to the plane. You know you’ve been out of it for a while, but this is just ridiculous. You’re usually a very punctual person.

It doesn’t take long for you to get settled, and Cosima slips into the seat next to you. The flight isn’t booked; there are many open seats, but it is still several more minutes until the flight attendant says the plane is ready to take off; turns out somebody else was late, too.

_But she dreams through the noise, her weight against me  
_ _Face pressed into the corduroy grooves_

Cosima is promptly fast asleep on your shoulder again. She’d been sleeping so much, and even though it is true that her illness is no longer a threat, you can’t decide whether that is the cause of her lethargy or not. You would be worried, but you know you have no reason to be. Cosima is no longer in danger. You repeat the phrase in your head like a mantra: Cosima is no longer in danger.

_Maybe it means nothing  
_ _Maybe it means nothing  
_ _Maybe it means nothing  
_ _But I’m afraid to move_

 

 

When the plane lands, you slip back into life in France as easily as if you had never left. Your home is still several hours away from the airport, however, so you stop by a café for some refreshments. You order,  _“Un café au lait, s’il vous plaît”,_ and sit quietly while you wait. It doesn’t take long before you have your latte, and you look down for a fleeting moment. When you raise your eyes again, Cosima is gone.

_And the words, they’re everything and nothing  
_ _I want to search for her in the offhand remarks…_

You glance around, hoping to catch sight of her. She couldn’t have just…left, could she? But you don’t spot her anywhere, and you find yourself clenching your fists so hard that your fingernails are cutting into your palms. You stare at your coffee for a few moments before standing abruptly and rushing back to your car. You slide into the driver’s seat and bury your face in your hands, a loud sob ripping its way out of your chest. You’d been trying  _so hard_ not to let your emotions get the better of you, but now you completely break down. You let the tears stream down your face in endless rivulets, wetting your hands, the steering wheel, everything. You take gasping breaths, letting everything go until you finally begin to calm down again on your own.

_Who are you, taking coffee, no sugar?  
_ _Who are you, echoing street signs?  
_ _Who are you, the stranger in the shell of a lover?  
_ _Dark curtains drawn by the passage of time_

You wipe your face with your sleeve and take a deep breath. You try not to think too hard, because you know that if you do, you’ll never be able to stop crying. You’d never make it back home.

“Hey….” Your attention snaps to the passenger’s seat beside you, and you shake your head in disbelief as you take in the image of Cosima gazing at you with pity in her bespectacled eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You know she’s not real. You know that she’s entirely a figment of your imagination, but you don’t know how to get her to go  _away._

_Oh words, like rain, how sweet the sound  
_ _“Well anyway,” she says, “I’ll see you around.”_

“It’s cool. I get it,” Cosima says softly. “I’m not supposed to be here. I thought that maybe…maybe if I made it seem like everything was okay, you would feel better.”

You simply shake your head and close your eyes, barely holding back another bout of sobbing. “I-I…I miss you,” you manage to get out, ignoring the fact that you’re speaking to yourself, that the real Cosima can’t hear you. The real Cosima was back in San Francisco, buried close to her family.

“Yeah, well…anyway,” pseudo-Cosima sighs, and then looks up at you with a sad half-smile. “I’ll see you around.”

And she’s gone. 


End file.
